


Pole Dancer

by CobaltStargazer



Series: City of Angels [1]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Open Marriage, Strippers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:03:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night out sparks an infatuation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pole Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this one's taking me yet, except maybe to hell in a hand basket. And since I was already on my way there, why stop now?

Spencer's wife liked strippers.

He wasn't sure what the allure was, although initially she'd taken an interest because she was doing research for a book on the sex industry. He supposed the interest lingered after the book was published. It wasn't until Alex started inviting him to join her when she visited her new favorite haunt that he began to wonder if there was something she wasn't telling him. They'd been married for several years, and while the marriage was open, they had an agreement that neither of them would be with anyone else without the other's knowledge. Still, it _was_ a change from their usual evenings out. Even live theater didn't quite match up to the show that went on here.

It was mostly clinical on Alex's part, The book she'd written was successful, and after she got back from the talk show circuit, she'd gotten the equivalent of an engraved invitation to visit the most high-end adult establishment in three counties Apparently she'd done quite a bit to promote that particular facet of the industry, which she took as a back-handed compliment. And there was something strangely appealing about all that barely-clothed grace. She knew from experience how the female body felt, and while she never seriously considered touching anyone here, it was nice to look. _Very_ nice indeed.

Se and Spencer were seated at a table in the VIP section, waiting for the next act to begin. He'd been reluctant to join her at first, but now he seemed to have resigned himself to indulging her.He was more removed from it than she was, perhaps because he couldn't shake the idea that some of those girls could be one of his students. He was young to be a professor, but he'd graduated from high school when he was twelve years old. His intelligence was the first thing that had attracted Alex to him. He was fiddling with his glass, his dextrous hands as fidgety as ever. She brushed his calf with her foot under the table, and he smiled at her fondly.

The emcee, a brunette somewhere in her thirties, took the stage with a microphone in her hand, and the piped-in music faded into silence when she said, "And now, Heaven's Peak is proud to present our latest attraction, all the way from Dallas.....Tarah!"

The music re-started, something slow and sinewy. Alex recognized it vaguely, and she sat forward with a fresh drink in her hand. The lights on the stage had turned a soft blue. Wen this set was over, she and Spencer would probably return home. He had to teach an early class, and she was meeting her editor for breakfast.

The stripper was another brunette, and she couldn't have been much more than five eight as opposed to the Amazons that usually took the stage. Her hair was cut short, framing her sharp features. The author wondered if it was a dye job, but usually they went blonde, not brown.

Elle had chosen ZZ Top as her signature when she'd first gotten started in the business, and _Fearless Boogie_ seemed especially appropriate tonight. She'd come up from Dallas a month ago, and Heaven's Peak had just hired her on. Call it stripping or exotic dancing, it was more than taking your clothes off. She was a trained dancer, and would have gone on to be a professional at it if she'd been able to find work after Julliard. This had been the next best thing, and it was good money and she had invested wisely. She rented a two bedroom condo in town and drove a late model car. It was one of the reasons she could afford to let Derek live with her while he pursued his art.

She let her eyes drift over the crowd, noting that it was almost a full house tonight, started to peel off the skimpy layer of clothes she wore to accompany the bump-and-grind. Not surprisingly, there were quite a few women in the audience. Elle had always wondered about that. She wondered more about why women who came to places like this were the loudest spectators.

Alex was not loud. Not that she _couldn't_ be, but in crowds she was as reserved as ever. She did enjoy the clean lines of the other woman's body ,the sinuous way she moved. Under the table, she crossed her legs, and the seam of her well-tailored slacks rubbed against her underwear pleasantly. She wondered if 'Tarah' would object to them buying her a drink. They could always stay a little longer after this set.

She glanced at her husband, and when she noticed his expression, the corners of her mouth lifted in fond amusement. It wasn't just that he'd directed his attention to the stage, because almost everyone in the room was doing so. It was that he'd become _still_. Spencer was a bit of a fidgeter, but right now his head was tilted to the right and he was placid. The writer leaned over, and her breath ruffled his longish hair when she spoke into his ear.

"Really, Spencer?"

"Yes, really, Alex."

If he sounded bemused, it was because he was. She wasn't his normal type, as much as he had a type. He doubted he was hers. But the woman possessed an earthy sort of beauty, and the exotic quality of her name boosted that notion. Vulpine. She looked vulpine.

"If you can get her attention, I'll buy her a drink."

Alex's smile widened, because that was more or less what she'd been hoping for. She'd broadened her husband's horizons when they'd gotten together. Not that Spence didn't have his own set of kinks, but he had to be prodded sometimes. 

Elle was down to a miniscule pair of underwear, and the blue lights bathed her nearly naked form as she wrapped one leg around the pole in the center of the stage and swung in a slow circle. Her current employer didn't require full nudity, which she preferred. She was thinking about what to have for dinner when she got home. The metal was cool against the inside of her thigh. There was cash tucked into her waistband, green bills fanning out. As the last song in her set faded out, she sauntered towards the edge of the stage.

Alex lifted a hand, caught the dancer's eye. The other woman nodded, moved off-stage. 

Spencer dug out his billfold, signaled a waitress. He ordered three drinks with a fair amount of aplomb, waited semi-patiently. He could be charming, even suave, but those first few minutes were the hardest ones to get through. His wife put a hand on his shoulder, rubbed it lightly. 

"Should I leave you to it?"

"No. At least not right away."

"All right."

Backstage, Elle put on a pair of slacks and a blouse. She hadn't been surprised to be hailed from the audience. Everybody seemed to ave assumptions about strippers; that they did drugs, that they were promiscuous, that they wanted to break into porn. While there _were_ those that was true about, she wasn't one of them. Still, free drinks weren't bad, and it might boost her cache with the owner if she could get patrons to buy several rounds.

"She's even shorter off-stage," Alex remarked in a murmur when the other brunette appeared again. 

Spencer craned his neck, noted that 'Tarah's' feet were bare. "It's probably difficult enough to dance in heels," he replied. "I'd kick them off the first chance I got too."

That gave the writer the strangest mental image, and she gave her husband a curious look. Cross-dressing? Hmm.

"Evening, folks," Elle said as she slid into the chair opposite the couple. The woman was about her age, maybe a little older. The man was younger, and he didn't make eye contact at first. She decided to be gentle because of that.

"That was some performance," Alex said, indicating the drink that had been set out for the dancer. "Is this your first night onstage here? They said you're new, but from the way you move, I take it this isn't your first job as a whole."

"What my wife means to say," Spencer interjected, "is that you're very talented. I'm sure you have a bright future waiting for you here."

Wife. Huh. Elle wondered if they were trying to pick her up together, if they had one of _those_ marriages. She'd dabbled with women before, but if pressed to slap a label on herself she'd have said she was straight. Whatever they were up to, she wasn't in the mood for it tonight.

He was trying to get the way she looked when she moved out of his head, but it was too fresh. It made him stammer when he said, "Dallas must have been different. Except for the climate, I mean. The summers here are scorching."

"Do the two of you come here a lot?" Because she wasn't going to talk about the weather.

"I got an invitation when the establishment opened," Alex said. "I think management's hoping others will find out a 'celebrity' comes here and follow suit."

Elle's puzzlement was clear, and Spencer said, "Alex wrote a book about...exotic dancing. That's where she initially became interested."

It took a few seconds for it to click. The brunette wasn't interested in the psychology of her profession, but she _did_ read. "Oh, _right_ ," she said, sitting forward. "I saw your segment on Colin Ferguson's show. The guy I live with has your book."

That broke the ice and made conversation easier, and it reduced the chances of one or both of them hitting on her. On stage, another dancer was plying her craft. They bought her a couple more drinks. Alex excused herself from the table on the pretext that she wanted to speak to the manager. Spencer might be awkward at first, but he didn't need a sitter. She touched his shoulder on the way past, and he smiled at her retreating back.

"She's not what you'd expect," Elle said, and he replied, "Why, because she's here? Everyone has things about themselves that surprise others. Sometimes they even surprise themselves."

"What are you a doctor of?"

"Languages. And philosophy. And literature."

Her quizzical expression turned into an amused one, and okay, maybe all of that smart in one package was kind of a turn-on. Tonight was not going to be Spencer's night, she'd already decided that. It wasn't going to be his wife's either. "What do you do with all those degrees?"

"I teach at UCLA. I'll probably be the head of my department in less than ten years."

"Your mom must be really proud."

A shadow flickered across his face and disappeared. Alex was the only one he'd told about Diana. When they got engaged, he'd told her because she deserved to know. In case she'd wanted to have children one day.

"Yes, she's very pleased with my accomplishments."

They sat sipping their drinks for a few minutes, and he was trying to work up the nerve to ask her for some private time. Even a lap dance would take the edge off. 'Look but don't touch', that was the rule in places like this. He could keep his hands to himself.

"Do you...see customers outside of work?"

She raised an eyebrow, and the slightest hint of annoyance tinged her voice when she replied. "Some of us do. Not all of us." If he was going to start hitting on her now, she could speak to one of the bouncers. She didn't mind a little flirting, and even encouraged it because it meant more cash at the end of the night, but her favors couldn't be bought, at least not overtly. In the low lights of the club, she saw his cheeks turn pink.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said hurriedly. "The connection between stripping and prostitution is actually not as direct as some people think. Most of the time, exotic dancers make more money in a year than the average blue collar worker. In fact, blue collar types usually spend a fair amount of time and money in establishments like this. They could probably declare it as a tax deduction for entertainment."

Spencer stopped talking because Tarah was staring at him, and he averted his eyes and looked at the stage. He always rambled when he was nervous, and he was especially nervous right now. "I proof-read Alex's manuscript before she sent it to her publisher," he mumbled. "Helped her with some of the research too. I have an eidetic memory."

Elle laughed, but the sound wasn't unkind. "I just wanted to make it clear that I'm not a whore."

"Of course you're not," he said, and he was looking at her again. His blush had faded a bit. "I was born in Las Vegas, so I really wasn't making an assumption. You're very beautiful. I'm sure you hear that a lot, though. I'm sorry if I offended you."

She saw Alex approaching the table, took that as her cue to retreat. "It's been really nice talking to you," she said with a polite smile. "I hope you come back. This is a classy place. We could use more classy people in it."

He'd blown it. He'd blown it terribly. Spencer produced a business card from an inside pocket, offered it to her. "If you want, call me at this number. We could have coffee." He was so _lame_.

She took the card, more to humor him than anything else. He hadn't sleazed at her, at least. And he had nice eyes.

"How did it go?"

"Lousy. She took my card, but I doubt she'll call. I need duct tape for my mouth sometimes."

Alex touched her husband's shoulder, then trailed one finger up the side of his neck. "Let's go home. I'll pour you a drink and run you a bath. I might even join you in the tub if you ask nicely enough."

Spencer smiled up at her, rose to his feet. He put the other matter on a shelf. If she called, she called. If not, that was okay too. Meanwhile, he was going home with his wife, and they might take a bath together. Cleanliness really _was_ next to Godliness sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I have edited properly, this will be a lot easier to read. *facepalm*


End file.
